There are times where I feel like I’m just drifting to no man’s land. These times usually range from around 3 days up to 2 weeks. During this time I tend to drive my friends, family members, and coworkers up a wall with my tendency to brush off conversation and concern. After that I tend to settle back into the norm until I’m drifting again. I’m currently drifting. When I say drifting I just mean that I’m going through a stage of detachment. It’s strange because I look at myself and my life from an outsider’s perspective. This weekend I was outside reading and it was like every feeling was magnified. Sweating was weird. But sweating is always weird…I noticed I have blonde hair on my shoulders, like where did that come from? I would take breaks to look up at the clouds and it was like I wasn’t looking at them from my point of view. It was as if Ii was almost dreaming of them. It’s hard to explain. I promise I’m not on drugs. I think the best way to say what I mean is that in these times nothing really feels real. Usually when I settle I feel too much. When I’m drifting I don’t feel enough. There’s rarely an inbetween. Generally there are moments that always feel real and I describe these as “things that make me feel alive” AKA anchors. I’m just gonna list them. Detail some and just leave others without explanation. I guess this post isn’t necessarily about nothing. It’s more like a litany of somethings that probably equal nothing much.
Thunderstorms, without the lightning. Just the thunder and the rain. Particularly at night with the windows cracked. Sometimes at my grandmother’s where there is tin roofing and those window air conditioner units that echo every drop of rain.
Music, all kinds. When I was around 10 my cousin gave me a portable radio for Christmas. I used to listen to classical music whenever I took baths or washed my hair. Ma had this mock jacuzzi tub (they do anything to jazz up a trailer) and I would sit the radio on the sink and lounge around in the water until all the bubbles dissipated. It was my favorite when they would play the instrumentals for Harry Potter. I don’t care what anyone says, the sound track to those movies was magical. After we moved to Jackson I used to play jazz and classical music at night just loud enough for me to hear the saxophones whispering in the dark. Now a days it’ll just be a song I really like such as Kendrick Lamar’s “Alright,” Paolo Nutini’s “Iron Sky,” Nina Simone’s “Baltimore,” Crime Mobb’s “Knuck if you Buck” (I’m kidding, I haven’t heard that song since middle school….)
Waking up in the middle of night. Something I’ve done since I was teeny tiny. I would wake up at 1 AM or 2 AM for no known reason. It’s my favorite thing to do because it’s a time when I just think. Sometimes I don’t even think about anything in particular. I might daydream, I may pray, I may just think about thinking. When we still lived in Batesville I would get up, put my shoes on, and climb out of my window. I would wonder around our yard or my grandmother’s yard and just listen to the highway traffic and crickets. Then I would climb back through my window and settle back into bed before anyone noticed. I’m glad I didn’t get kidnapped. I don’t wake up at night as often as I did growing up but I still enjoy it when it does happen. Unless it’s close to the time I have to wake up….
Good books. Really good books. Sociology books, autobiographies, fictional, suspenseful, anything by Walter Mosley……Also reading a good book while it’s raining….
Walking through water puddles barefoot.
Playing piano. Let’s not acknowledge the fact that I can only play at an intermediate level. I just like the feel of the keys. The fact that the harder you press, the louder the note. The softer the touch, the softer the note. It’s borderline godly to be able to command serene or exhilarating feelings with your fingertips. It’s amazing what hands can do, the ability to create.
Side note : one of my piano teachers had narcolepsy and would fall asleep during our practices. She didn’t tell me this so the first time she did it I thought she had died (she was old) and it scared the crap out of me. So I just started banging on the keys and when she jerked awake I just went back to playing the song from the book.
Listening to my family members talk. Not even talking with them but hearing them share stories or talk about whatever is going on. I just like to hear their voices and see their gestures.
That’s all I have for now. Most of these show my true level of maturity (the obvious lack thereof). Some probably sound crazy. That’s not unusual. But they’re just things I greatly enjoy so I call them anchors for times when I’m just going off the deep end. That’s that.